


The Closet

by Ophiel



Series: Kiddistair and Little Cullen [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophiel/pseuds/Ophiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stop talking to girls on Facebook, Alistair!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Closet

“Mother!” Cullen yelled at the top of his lungs before his cry was abruptly silenced. Alistair clamped his hand over his younger brother’s mouth angrily, his furious expression illuminated by the flickering screen of the computer. “Shut up!” Alistair hissed as Cullen tried to pry his hand off. But it was too late. Mother stood at the door with her arms akimbo, glaring at the two boys, annoyance marring her fine features. Alistair grudgingly let go of Cullen. “He’s talking to girls on Facebook again!” Cullen blurted. Alistair crossed his arms, glaring at his brother as he tried to quell the simmering anger within him.

Mother strode forward and yanked Alistair off the chair by the back of his collar. “You should be studying for your tests, not talking to girlfriends!” Mother scolded. Alistair said nothing, his face stained red with indignation. He did not say anything, for Mother’s scathing tone was enough to make anyone in the family quiver in fear. Cullen stood next to her like a dutiful second-in-command as she continued her tongue lashing. One of Cullen’s eyebrows arched, taunting Alistair to say a word in retort. Alistair glowered at him. Cullen was going to pay for being a tattle-tale.  

An impish thought lit in Alistair’s mind as he hatched a plan of vengeance.

Once Mother was done with her tirade, Alistair was banished from the room so Cullen could do his homework on the computer. Alistair crept to Cullen’s room and stealthily hid in the closet. He knew Cullen would soon be back to pick up some books for his homework. He crouched low amongst the clothes, like a predator hiding in the bushes on the hunt for its unknowing prey, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He held a torchlight, planning to jump out at Cullen and scare him with a terrifying face! He chuckled at his own brilliance. He’d show that wussy Cullen who was boss of the computer in this house!

Alistair waited in the dark stuffy closet, listening keenly for any movement in the room beyond. The cramped space was beginning to get to him and his leg muscles were beginning to burn from crouching for so long. Darkness loomed over him like a shroud, he could barely see his own hand in front of his face as the space felt like it was closing around him. He tried to suppress the claustrophobia that threatened to overwhelm him. A strange odour of unwashed sock permeated the air. Alistair heard footsteps from beyond the door. He tried to still himself, waiting for the footsteps to draw nearer to the door. His nose tingled as the smell of the socks threatened to make him sneeze and ruin his plan.

Then, something lightly tickled his arm. Alistair froze, quivering with fear. The little tickles crept up his bare arm and across his shoulder. His mind filled with images of ghosts and goblins that may hide in the darkness. He bit his lip, trying to swallow the growing terror. He reached up to brush his arm, telling himself that it was nothing more than the sleeve of a shirt. His fingers closed around something papery and small, tiny feelers tickling his hand. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as Alistair realized what he was holding! He let out a scream that could have woken the dead.

Alistair burst out of the closet, screaming like a banshee. As he burst through the door, he ran right into Cullen who was in the middle of reaching out for the closet door. Both boys tumbled onto the carpet. From the open closet, a flying cockroach emerged, heading straight to the shadows the boys cast on the ground. Alistair yelled and fled, the roach chasing him as if with a vengeance. Alistair tripped on the carpet then and tumbled with a loud thud, the disgusting speck of black swooping down right at him until…

“SMACK!” A tennis racket slammed hard against the cockroach, flinging it out of the open bedroom window. The cockroach sailed through the air and disappeared beyond. Cullen stared at the window, frozen as he held the racket. He shuddered in disgust and dropped the racket before running off, yelling, “M… Mummy!”

Alistair knew he was going to get another shelling from Mother for trying to scare Cullen. Still, Alistair realized that, for all Cullen’s tattle-tale ways, Cullen was still a brave and loyal brother who saved him from the menacing cockroach. He would have to apologize to Cullen for trying to scare him. Alistair felt remorse for his petty act of vengeance. He actually felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment when he recalled how he screamed like a baby when the cockroach closed in on him. “Alistair! Come here!” Mother yelled from the next room. It was time to face the music. Alistair sighed and went to get his just deserts. _(Idiom: just deserts – rightfully deserved)_       


End file.
